A house, a few acres of good farmland, a gentle and ambitious husband—just thinking about it made her feel wonderful!

That night, how much romantic splendor, how many vows of eternal love…

After a night of passion, that man reluctantly departed with her silver, while she continued selling smiles at the door, bitterly awaiting the day he would pass the imperial examinations.

Three years later, the house was acquired, the farmland was secured, and he had indeed passed the imperial examination to become a jinshi.

However, on the very day of the banquet at Qujiang, he became someone else’s prized son-in-law. Afterward, he casually tossed her these words:

“With your withered and tattered body, you think you’re worthy of being my wife? Slut!”

Mama Xia suddenly broke into cackling laughter, then abruptly raised her hand.

“Slap—”

“You’re the slut! You scholars are all sluts, all liars, a hundred times, a thousand times, ten thousand times more despicable than prostitutes!”

This slap came so suddenly and viciously that Xie Zhifei couldn’t dodge it, taking the full force.

He’d been calculating in his mind how to ask Mama Xia who had truly redeemed Departed Waters, but this slap suddenly gave him an inspiration.

“In the end, you still can’t compare to Departed Waters.”

He said in a low voice, “Who could deceive her? She was truly a clever person!”

At this mention, sharp pain pierced Mama Xia’s chest, and even her last shred of remaining clarity was provoked away.

She grabbed Xie Zhifei’s collar. “What do you understand? Ah, what do you know?”

“I know she was redeemed.”

“Redeemed?”

The veins on the back of Mama Xia’s hand bulged as her voice became neither quite crying nor laughing.

“Who was that Li San? Even his surname and name were fake… all fake… What vows of eternal love, what sweet words and honeyed phrases… fake… fake… fake… fake…”

Xie Zhifei’s heart wavered. “If Li San was fake, then who was real?”

Who was real?

“Nothing is real. They’re all shadows—my shadow, your shadow, his shadow.”

Mama Xia looked at Xie Zhifei with drunken, hazy eyes, suddenly burped, then raised her orchid finger.

“Hearing the qin at night stirred the maiden’s heart; at the cold dawn window, her spirit weary, cosmetics applied in vain, too lazy to lift her body, a long sigh escapes…”

Her voice suddenly rose much higher, and she began singing opera with affected tones.

“Lightly powder her face, casually arrange her black tresses; the treasures in her vanity case lie idle; it turns out to be a poem that breaks the heart…”

A poem that breaks the heart…

A person whose heart is broken…

As her voice gradually lowered, Mama Xia could no longer support herself and slowly collapsed to the floor.

She slowly curled up her hands and feet, slowly turned over, slowly curling into the position of an infant in its mother’s womb.

Her legitimate mother’s schemes, her birth mother’s hatred, her father’s madness, and her full brother’s drooling mouth…

Mama’s severity, the young master’s devotion, the young master’s heartlessness, and the jealous eyes of all those other young ladies…

“Master, Sixth Concubine is carrying twins, and one of them must be a boy.”

“Good, good, good! What our Fu family needs most now are yuanbao. Let’s call these twins Fu Yuan and Fu Bao.”

“Congratulations, Master! The first one born is a daughter. This old midwife has never seen such a fair and clean child—she’ll surely be a beauty.”

“A beauty? Then let’s call her Fu Bao—precious as treasure.”

Mama Xia gently closed her eyes, drunk into unconsciousness.

Xie Zhifei looked down at her for a long time. Finally, he bent down, lifted her from the floor, placed her on the bed, and pulled the brocade quilt over her.

He extinguished the candle, plunging the room into darkness.

He frowned slightly, then turned and left.

…

The night breeze was cool.

Laughter rippled through the air.

Walking past palace lantern after palace lantern, the light fell on Yan Sanhe’s face, coating her jade-white complexion with a layer of soft color.

But this soft color was far less obvious than the worry in her eyes.

Yan Sanhe was truly worried about Third Master.

Mama Xia was different from Sister Zhen.

Sister Zhen had spent her whole life fighting with her natal family and in-laws—what she’d seen, heard, and experienced was limited.

Mama Xia had mixed in the pleasure quarters for decades—she was a most slippery loach.

Even drunk, it wouldn’t be easy for Xie Zhifei to extract all information about Departed Waters from her mouth.

“My Fifty is still an innocent virgin chicken who hasn’t even crowed yet.”

Young Master Pei spoke faintly, “That old woman clearly hasn’t had any for a long time. What if she devours my Fifty until not even a scrap remains?”

Yan Sanhe stumbled, nearly falling.

She looked at Pei Xiao in disbelief. “Aren’t you two…”

“It’s all just playacting.”

Young Master Pei’s face was full of regret. “It’s all my fault for constantly whispering in his ear about ‘ten drops of blood, one drop of essence,’ causing him to… Eh, Sanhe, why is your face red?”

“…”

“You’re a spirit medium. Logically, such matters should be quite ordinary to you.”

“…”

This spirit medium is only seventeen years old!!

Yan Sanhe roared inwardly.

Just then, a voice suddenly erupted: “You filthy wretch, stay away from me… What damned bad luck…”

A dozen zhang away.

An old woman kept kowtowing to the noble person before her. “Noble sir, spare my life! Noble sir, spare my life! This lowly one didn’t see you were here.”

The noble person was short and stout, with an oily, plump face and a belly like someone six months pregnant.

“Are you blind? Do you know how much these clothes of mine are worth? Ten taels of silver—just put them on!”

The old woman tremblingly extended her hand. “This old slave will dust them off for you, noble sir.”

“Dust off your mother!”

The fat man kicked out with his leg. “Get lost!”

This kick landed squarely on the old woman’s chest. Her eyes rolled back, and she fell backward stiffly.

The fat man still wasn’t satisfied. He kicked the two chamber pots beside her twice, covering his mouth and nose as he walked away cursing, “Old slut, you deserve to empty chamber pots for life.”

The chamber pots toppled in response, their contents spilling across the ground. The stench immediately filled the air.

Young Master Pei quickly tensed his cheeks. “Let’s go, go, go—the smell is killing me.”

Yan Sanhe had originally intended to leave, but seeing the old woman lying motionless on the ground, she changed her mind.

She strode over, crouched before the old woman, and extended her hand to check her breathing.

“Young Master Pei, how do I revive her?”

Young Master Pei hurried over, covering his nose. “Press her philtrum—press hard.”

Yan Sanhe pressed hard once, then again. After several attempts, the old woman’s body convulsed, and she finally opened her eyes.

“Zhu Qing, give me five taels of silver.”

Give her silver too?

Young Master Pei immediately grew impatient. “Yan Sanhe, why bother with this idle…”

“Master Pei, where is the heart most broken? Seeing the autumn moon at Guan Mountain.”

Young Master Pei hadn’t expected her to come out with this line. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond.

That’s right.

Wu Guanyue loved the people like his own children, as did Zhou, but the key point was that Master Pei only wanted to idle away and wait for death—why should he help?

Zhu Qing handed over the broken silver. Yan Sanhe took it, helped the old woman up, and pressed the five taels of silver into her hand.

“Don’t stoop to the level of a mad dog.”

The old woman turned her head, staring blankly at Yan Sanhe. Two lines of turbid tears slowly welled from her eyes.

Yan Sanhe said nothing more, only slowly helping her to her feet.

The old woman steadied herself, bowed deeply to Yan Sanhe, then bent down to pick up the chamber pots.

When the fat bastard had kicked them, he’d used all his strength—one chamber pot had actually been kicked into the grass.

Yan Sanhe was just about to turn around when suddenly her gaze fixed.

“Pei Mingting, look at her feet.”